I collect up the pieces of my former life

Photos, articles, trinkets and pictures,

that reverberate with a life once lived,

far away from where  I am now.

I was once a borderline, edging death.

A cathartic catchpole where I caught nothing but pain. 

Grazing on the  remnants of the past, I realise 

that I was set up to fail.

No one there to see the beating heart of kindness.

I was a cocoon in a permanent state if diapause. 

An Emma without a name.